


Shatterpoint

by The Bookwyrm (Amicitia)



Series: Inquisitor Trevelyan [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Inquisitor-Lite, Jaws of Hakkon, M/M, Mental Breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7986967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amicitia/pseuds/The%20Bookwyrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story isn't about recovering.<br/>War changes people.<br/>Some are better adapted to handling its horrors, some aren't.<br/>But life still has to go on.<br/>This story is about how the Inquisition copes when their leader falters.<br/>The Inquisitor has been avoiding his closest friends. The stress of it all has been getting to the scholarly young man who had to take up the mantle of Inquisitor. Giving orders and killing where necessary. He finally cracks.<br/>-----</p><p>“The voices get louder. Listen to the well. I can't hear it. Where's the whispers? Anything’s better than this. You will fail. I will not fail. I need Dorian. No can't have him, you're so needy. Can't put this pressure on him. This is silly. Maker I can't keep their faces away. Leave me alone. I did my best! It's not enough. I could have saved more… Why did they have to die? They didn't have to attack. Why are you attacking? No these are voices. Think of numbers, wrap the Fade around the ice, tug at the loops of time. You failed them. You could have done more. Multiply it by seven. Stop. Stop. Stop! STOP!” Cole said suddenly, the panic evident in his voice.</p><p>“I don't hear him.” The spirit’s voice was back to its gentle monotonous tone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shatterpoint

**Author's Note:**

> Given the amount of shit he goes through, I'm surprised it doesn't come up more.  
> I figured Islington had a fairly sheltered life and thought about what would happen if you suddenly thrust someone into that situation, a situation where he doesn't have that much of a choice. What would he do and such.  
> I hope I've portrayed their reactions and stayed true to the characters properly, and as realistically as possible for their psyches.

If it's one thing that could be said about Inquisitor Trevelyan, he always had a smile for others, although those more accustomed to dealing with nobles or the tranquil were familiar with it. It was practiced, perfect, just the way he had been trained when he was younger, and more so when he was at the Circle. While the smile wasn't genuine, those who knew him knew he was a modest and sincere person who never got his fame or power in his head. He used what resources the Inquisition had to garner peace everywhere. A year after the Inquisition was founded, its influence and stability was felt all over Thedas. The institution had become large, but it was seen as a protector, a guardian. Where the Inquisition went, trouble was cleaned up and order was restored. Yet those in the Inner Circle had noticed slight changes in the Inquisitor’s behaviour. He had been excusing himself more often from their social endeavours. Other than when they were on missions, the Inquisitor had stopped visiting them.

It was dinner time and the friends had gathered together at a table. Sera, Bull and Blackwall gathered together at one end of the table. Vivienne sat at the other end, with Leliana and Josephine. The rest were scattered in the middle and Solas kept to himself as he sat in the middle of the table. They had only come together to eat at Islington’s insistence, something about needing to know each other better as colleagues even if they couldn't get along. It had resulted in some interesting friendships. Where once Cassandra had wanted to strangle Varric, the two were now steadfast allies. Even Cole showed up after some cajoling from Islington and Varric although he didn't touch the food.

Dorian poked at his food rather despondently. He had no appetite and he kept glancing at the Inquisitor’s quarters.

“Dorian, did something happen between you and Islington? He's not here for dinner,” Cassandra, the ever blunt one spoke first.

“Something happen? Things are always happening between us Cassandra. If it's not a darkspawn from legend, it's a death trap or murder plot. Or maybe oh I don't know, we are both just utterly bored with each other and started quarrelling,” The Tevinter snapped.

“Whoa Sparkler, calm down. Cassandra was just asking out of concern. You're not eating well and Snowflake’s not about. He's clearly not talking to any of us at the moment since everyone’s here,” Varric said as he tried to diffuse the tension.

Dorian sighed, “I'm sorry Cassandra, we had a little fight earlier today. He's been making excuses not to spend time with me, asked me to go back to my own room a week ago. Saying Josephine has some work for him and he can't get distracted… or that he has to spend time with the rest of you. I'm sorry it's selfish of me but he's been quite distant of late.

Varric paused for a bit. “He barely stops by to chat with me as well, and I thought he was upset with me but he said he wasn't. Ruffles has been giving him too much paperwork apparently.”

“I've done no such thing!” Josephine protested looking hurt. “In fact, the Inquisitor is so behind in his paper work I've taken to do most of it myself to get things going with his permission. He says he's been focusing on his studies as a Rift mage.”

All eyes immediately went to Solas who was midway spooning soup into his mouth. He elegantly placed the spoon down and looked around the table. “I'm afraid the Inquisitor has been lying on that fact. He's been making excuses to avoid lessons or further talk about it. He hasn't spoken to me about it for a week now.”

There was some silence as they processed the information, it pointed to the obvious. The Inquisitor had been deliberately trying to avoid his closest companions, quarrelling with Dorian even. He was usually steadfast but firm, but seldom fought directly with anyone, preferring to be diplomatic and opting for a choice where everyone was happy. He was an amiable and considerate fellow.

“The voices get louder. Listen to the well. I can't hear it. Where's the whispers? Anything’s better than this.”

Cole’s voice pierced through the silence. An uneasy feeling settled amongst the Inquisition members as they realised whose thoughts he was hearing. Usually he couldn't because of the mark and now the well, but the very fact that he could meant the Inquisitor was crying out loudly enough for him to hear.

Bull got up and headed towards the Inquisitor’s door, followed by the rest. Islington usually left it unlocked.

“You will fail. I will not fail. I need Dorian. No can't have him, you're so needy. Can't put this pressure on him. This is silly. Maker I can't keep their faces away. Leave me alone. I did my best! It's not enough. I could have saved more… Why did they have to die? They didn't have to attack. Why are you attacking? No these are voices. Think of numbers, wrap the Fade around the ice, tug at the loops of time. You failed them. You could have done more. Multiply it by seven. Stop. Stop. Stop! STOP!” Cole said suddenly, the panic evident in his voice.

“I don't hear him.” The spirit’s voice was back to its gentle monotonous tone.

Bull gave a roar and charged towards the door, placing the weight of his shoulder against it. The wood creaked then shattered but at that moment, ice formed between the broken pieces, holding it in place. Bull stepped back in surprise. “Shit.”

Panic gripped the rest of the members. The warriors got together and rammed hard against the door of ice. The ice creaked under their weight but held.

“Let us. We must get to him as soon as possible,” Vivienne said as she readied a fire spell. The warriors stepped back. Fireball after fireball was hurled towards the Inquisitor’s door and the ice wall started to melt.

“Cole get to him,” Cassandra instructed as she rubbed her sore shoulder and the boy vanished. He came back a while later. “I can't get to him. He's frozen. I don't know how to help!”

Once it had melted enough, Bull charged at it again, shattering it once and for all. The corridor that greeted them did not ease their minds. A thick layer of ice covered the surfaces of the ground. Even the floor was ice. They walked carefully across it, silent, each worried about what they would find. The occasional glance was given to Dorian, even he was silent. They all cared for the Inquisitor but the one who held him the closest was the Tevinter. The urge to rush was present but it was sheer folly over the slippery surface. It was quiet save for their footsteps.

“Andraste preserve me…” Cullen said as he came across one of Skyhold’s feral Ravens frozen where it was. It had attempted to take off but was frozen to the handrail which it had previously perched on. Leliana stopped, just checking it briefly but it was clear the sight had shocked her a little. She always had a soft spot for animals, and it pained her to see one killed like this.

Bull had gone first, his brows furrowed. Partly out of worry for his friend, the other part grim. He had seen Tal-Vashoths slowly descend into madness. He himself was one now but he had his men to ground him, so did the Inquisitor, but it wasn't looking like it. The magic blast unnerved him. Warriors and people he could handle but the madness that seemed to be taking over the Inquisitor wasn't something he could hit with a blade. If the Inquisitor had become an abomination… Well… His hand fell to his broadsword at his back, just in case. He was not the only one on that thought. Cassandra and Cullen had their hands on their pommels. As they walked, Solas and Vivienne ran their hands along the ice, melting it. Only Dorian remained silent. Varric and Sera walked quietly with him.

Bull’s horned head poked over the bedroom floor as he came up and he frowned. What he saw didn't please him. In the middle of what was a literal bed of ice, curled the form of the Inquisitor. He wasn't breathing. “Is he dead?”

“He alive but… frozen,” the boy said.

The mages looked uneasily at each other. They could tug at the magic of the Fade and what they found troubled them.

Solas moved to speak, his tone logical as always, but he sounded troubled. “He… Somehow he managed to freeze time on himself. It's… Similar to that of the Still Ruins and Redcliff but… Different. I can sense a bit of Rift magic involved… And elemental.”

Dorian rushed over to his amatus’ side, breathing hard. He nearly tripped and would have slid if Bull had not caught him by the arm. The Qunari gently held his friend as he went over to the Inquisitor’s side. “Amatus?” He called out, his voice barely a whisper. Hot tears started to fill his eyes. No he couldn't lose him like this. To something else maybe but he couldn't lose the Inquisitor to the Inquisitor.

Vivienne glanced at the sleeping figure before she walked over to the Inquisitor’s desk. It too had frozen over with a slight layer of ice. Through it she could make out some papers with equations. “Solas, I think you should see this. Dorian darling, if you could put aside your emotions for a bit we might be able to come up with something to save your Amatus.” It was wild shot and statement but she had to try. At the moment, neither the warriors and rogues knew what to do, nor could they do anything.

Josephine stood rooted to the spot as she looked at their leader. They had to bring him back somehow. Her thoughts flashed to how the Inquisitor had readily agreed to help her out personally, without want for favour. A glance was given to the others of the Inquisition.

Sera wore her emotions on her sleeve, distress evident on her face while Blackwall placed a hand on her shoulder, his face taut and grim. “They'll work something out,” he tried to reassure her. Varric nodded his head as well, taking a deep sigh. “He’s right, it always works out like in the stories Buttercup. The hero falls for a while then comes back and he's only done it so many times. He'll be all right.”

The dwarf and warden shared a glance with each other. They had seen enough stories where the hero failed to return as well, too many lives and soldiers lost.

Cullen remained quiet for a while “Maybe he’ll surprise us again… We… I'll… I'll go see about setting guard. Josephine, Cassandra, I'll need your help… Leliana, keep us updated.” He knew he needed to keep his friends busy. The two warriors and ambassador walked out, discussing what they could do. It was probably lucky for them that they had few dignitaries at the moment and it was getting late into the night… or there would be more questions than necessary. Cassandra stood guard at the Inquisitor’s door, while Cullen went to find soldiers to reinforce it. Josephine was left to handle the queries of anyone coming along.

“There has been a matter, the Inquisition’s Inner Circle is handling it as we speak. It will be all right.” Although she knew in her heart the rumours would spread like wildfire. Still she did her best. The Antivian glanced at the door, looking to Cassandra for support before she pulled a chair for the both of them to sit down and wait. The Seeker chose to stand, doing her best to glare. It helped to deter the curious well enough. Anyone who came near had business, either to handle the door, or just to pass a missive. But even passersby could tell the worry on their faces that something had gone terribly wrong.


	2. Ice breakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the crew continue to reel from the effects of the Inquisitor's spell

The mages congregated at the Inquisitor’s desk. It was hard to make out the words written on the papers through the layer of ice.

“Dorian darling, was Islington working on any sort of magic?” Vivienne asked gently as she peered through the ice.

“He had asked for Alexius’ research and notes a few weeks ago. The magic at Redcliff is still rather unknown and unstable. We looked through it together during some nights and he listened to my theories and studies. It's all mostly theoretical but he wanted to try and understand it better,” the Tevinter said quietly. “He was trying to understand the magic Inquisitor Ameridan used to preserve himself and Hakkon.”

The other two mages looked at Dorian and then the still form of the Inquisitor.

“Is there any reason why Inquisitor Trevelyan would be interested in time magic?” Solas asked with a frown. There was a worry, was his friend trying to turn back time to prevent deaths?

“He was talking about possibly freezing Corypheus in time. After the spectacle at the Well of Sorrows… How do you kill someone who has learned effective immortality? If we couldn't kill him, the next best thing Islington was talking about was… Well if it came to it, he said he would have to do what Ameridan did with Hakkon. We… We fought over it,” Dorian said weakly, tears coming to his eyes.

The remaining Circle had started to eavesdrop on their conversation. It was one thing to understand that the Inquisitor was willing to give everything to stop Corypheus, but another to hear it said so solidly.

“I… My apologies Solas, Vivienne… I… I hope you don't mind if I just retire to Islington’s side for the time being. Feel free to call me over if you need help in reading the notes,” Dorian said as he left without seeking their permission. Bull placed a hand on the Tevinter’s shoulder as he came over to the bed, but Dorian held up his hand and shook his head, indicating he needed to be alone. The Qunari nodded and turned to look at the others rather helplessly. He was going to need someone to hit him with a stick when this was over.

Varric sighed a little before he spoke, “I'm going to see if Josephine needs any help. I hate to say it but there's nothing I can do here for Snowflake. If you need me I'll be outside.” He slowly made his way down the stairs, casting one final glance towards the bed. It broke his heart to see Dorian holding the Inquisitor’s hand close to his chest, crying softly. He wanted to be there for his friends but it was uncertain, and frankly, he wasn't sure if he could stand waiting and watching the still body of his friend. The lack of breathing was unsettling, even if he knew his friend technically wasn't dead… But he might as well be given the symptoms. The difference was that he could be brought home back, theoretically… Assuming that Vivienne and Solas could do something about it.

Sera had been uncharacteristically still and quiet. Blackwall stood by his friend’s side, glancing uneasily at Iron Bull. The Qunari had made his way over to them, not in a threatening manner, close enough that he was near the Inquisitor and Dorian, but Blackwall couldn't help but notice that the former Ben-Hassrath was also within grabbing range of Sera. Bull met the warden’s gaze, before inclining his head a little towards Sera. So they both had similar thoughts. They were expecting the elf to break into some sort of emotional distress at any moment. It was just a matter of time before her mind worked out what her next course of action should be. Would it be anger or sadness? The elf could be hard to read at times. While both warriors were reeling from the events, it was easier for them to clear their mind and focus. They had enough practice during their stints.

“Stupid… Piss bucket! Stupid Issy. He should have said something!”

The girl finally exploded.

“Stupid arse-faced mage! How can he be so selfish?! Ugh! I should have said something. Maybe… He… He’ll be all right won't he? Please say he’ll be all right… Solas… Vivienne… You’ll… You’ll figure out something right? It'll be all right again won't it? Then it'll be back to… Odd normal.”

The hot tempered elf just sank to the floor where she stood, not caring how slippery it was as she started to cry. Dorian clutched the Inquisitor’s hand tighter. It was cold and hearing Sera did not help ease his emotions at all… But he knew the girl needed to get her distress out, as did he, but he managed it quietly.

Blackwall knelt down next to Sera and pulled the girl into a gentle one arm embrace. “It'll be all right. He’ll be back. I don't think he meant to do this.” Sera leaned and sobbed into her friend’s shoulder. Over the months, Blackwall had become a close friend, a paternal figure even to her and she never had one before. Maternal yes, but paternal, not so much. Well he was more of that drunk uncle that told dirty jokes but he was still a paternal figure to her. The warden had fallen naturally into the role as a protector. It made him feel needed, and soothed the worries that clutched at his heart. He couldn't do anything for the Inquisitor so he turned to help Sera, providing what comfort he could. Part of him worried for Josephine as well, but even at such a time, he could not bring himself to admit his feelings to the Antivian lady.

Bull relaxed a little when Blackwall comforted Sera. Only just a little. The situation was still rather dire. A glance was given to Cole, to see if he was still around. The spirit was standing in a corner, eyes downcast as he rocked in his spot. Not a word had been uttered from the spirit’s lips since they came into the room.

“Cole?” He asked.

Cole looked up upon being addressed.

“How are you doing?”

“It's quiet here. The Fade stills things, even the thoughts of others.”

Bull looked outside the window and there was some truth to it. The bird that could be heard were silent and even the Frostback winds were absent.

“Hey Cole, think your fire runed daggers can help with the ice? Might as well get to melting the place,” Bull suggested, looking at Blackwall and Sera. “Might help weaken whatever magic the Boss used if it's tied to ice.”

The two mages at the desk looked up.

“It's worth a try. We’re still trying to get to the Inquisitor’s notes. It would help us to move around the room if needed,” Solas said, glancing over to Vivienne for confirmation. The court enchanter paused a bit, considering the elf’s words and nodded her head in agreement.

Bull nodded his head. “Come on, let's go get our fire runes. The boss usually has some lying around in the Undercroft.” The mention of the Undercroft brought up the image of a rather bubbly arcanist.

“Do you want me to call Dagna over?” He offered.

“No!” The two mages said in unison. While her inputs could be valid, neither wanted to tolerate her at the moment.

“What about Grand Enchantress Fiona?”

“Bull dear, if you're going to suggest bringing more people in here, we have a saying in the South, too many cooks spoil the broth. If we need anything we’ll tell you, now please let us do our work,” Vivienne chided.

“Yes mam,” Bull replied before he headed down to gather the weapons. Blackwall followed him, tugging Sera along as well. Only Cole and Leliana remained.

“I think we can begin by melting the ice first Cole. Let's start here,” Leliana suggested towards the stairs and handrails. She took out her own dagger, activating the rune on it and gestured for Cole to join her. They ran the flaming blades over the ice sheet, melting it slowly but surely.

With the room quieter, the two mages worked tirelessly to melt the ice at the desk, taking care to stop once they've neared the papers. It would do them no good if they burned any of it. Whether the notes would help or not, it was a way forward.

Vivienne and Solas worked quietly to melt just enough, taking care not to use too strong of a spell least they burn the papers. Whether it might help them or not, it was something. While the apostate and the court enchanter had their differences, it was one of the few times they put aside their bickering and listen to each other. Dorian released his hold on the Inquisitor after a while to rejoin them.

“At least ice is better than having the place being run with electricity or going up in flames,” the Tevinter quipped as he worked with them. He was falling back into old habits, putting aside his worry to focus on his work.

Sera, Bull and Blackwall returned soon enough and joined Leliana and Cole. The warden strode over to the mages with some rolls of bread.

“Here Dorian, you didn't eat much at the dinner. Just in case you got hungry,” he said briefly before going back to the stairs.

As time spelt ticked by, the crew managed to get quite a bit of the ice whittled down. The mages melted enough, then broke the rest of the ice to pull out the sheets of paper underneath. Without the ice, the Inquisitor’s neat and crisp handwriting outlined several theories. It was clear that he had done similar modes of research before. Each step and theory had been dutifully recorded. Any diagrams had been carefully labelled to aid the ease in reading and understanding.

The mages studied the equations, and both Vivienne and Solas couldn't help but marvel at the Inquisitor.

“I knew he was talented at Ostwick but to be able to meld elemental magic and time like this is incredible work. Even if it's theoretical, the basis of it is solid enough. He uses Heisen’s principle and takes into account the uncertainty of space and time,” Vivienne praised quietly.

“Is that what that is? I recognise these steps although it would be pretentious to name it after someone,” Solas said, rather impressed but affronted by the idea that mages named theories after themselves or so.

“Unlike the wilds Solas, we need some way to record the magic that our mages do. We actually cooperate and have a history,” the court enchanter snidely replied.

“Yes, one filled with repression and misery. I'm aware of that.”

Vivienne placed the papers down to glare at the elven hedge mage. At this point Dorian slammed his fist onto the table, getting the attention of both his fellow mages.

“Look I know you two have your differences but can we please focus on what is important and necessary at the moment? We have to break the spell the Inquisitor cast, one way or another, and then you two can get back to bickering like you always do once Islington is safe. This sort of magic isn't just going to yield against a Dispell or any simple counterspell. Both of you can see that. We don't even know if undoing it would kill him!” The Altus glared at them as he spoke. Even the other rogues and warriors looked up from where they were working at his outburst. They had not caught the previous parts of the conversation but Dorian was loud enough. Cassandra poked her head in through the door, only for Leliana to signal to her that it was all right.

“I… My apologies Lady Vivienne. Dorian is correct. We must focus on what is necessary at the moment.”

“Apology accepted Solas and… Please accept my sincerest apologies, both of you,” Vivienne said as she looked at the notes once more.

The three of them stood in silence after that, the tense atmosphere dissolved as they flipped through sheet after sheet.

“Vivienne, Solas, this is what I think we can do,” Dorian said before he outlined the plan he had. He pointed out how the equations meshed the magic together and by modifying certain variables, they would be able to manage a counterspell. “Unfortunately I'm not certain on the ways to minimise the risk to Islington,” he said as he looked at the other two. Neither of them had worked with time magic before nor knew the intricacies involved in detail.

“I think it would be prudent in this case for me to talk to Alexius about undoing the spell. He might be able to shore up my theory a bit more.”

There were some murmurs of caution but they eventually agreed that it was the best solution. Dorian gathered up the Inquisitor’s notes and headed out of the room to where he knew Alexius frequented.


	3. A turn back into time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexius and Dorian have a talk

Gereon Alexius was a shadow of the confident decisive man he had been. The Tevinter magister had lost so much after Redcliff. It had been cruel mercy that the Inquisitor spared the man’s life, sentencing him to work as a magical researcher for the Inquisition. It had been months now since Felix’s death, he still grieved for his son, but things had started to look less bleak of late. Despite what he had done, the Inquisition’s forces had shown him kindness. His templar handler, Belinda Darrow, had treated him well, he had a decent room and meals, and pretty much all the Inquisition’s arcane books were at his disposal. His work had satisfied the Inquisitor and he had been allowed to stroll around Skyhold without his shackles. Some of the Inquisition’s mages were slowly warming up to him, realising that he was just a man who had made wrong decisions out of grief. Fiona had taken the first step to extend the metaphorical olive branch and it had started from there. She had been urged to by an odd young boy. Gereon had seen the boy around, accompanying the Inquisitor. There was always something off about him and no matter how much he tried to remember, he couldn’t recall his features. The Inquisitor himself visited him, sometimes with Dorian, sometimes without. They spoke little, but the Inquisitor made it a point to have tea with him every week while he updated him about his research progress. It had struck him as odd that the Inquisitor had declined to see him this week despite being around Skyhold, but Alexius passed it off as him being terribly busy.

Alexius was lingering about the tiny library next to the vault, studying the books. The ones here were fairly cryptic, and he had been spending his days slowly trying to decipher their contents. Occasionally another mage joined him, but for most days, it was just him and Belinda. The templar was quiet, spending most of her time studying the chant, although of late they had been sharing their life stories in between. It had been a rocky relationship at first, with the woman watching his every move but as days went by, they grew more familiar with each other and each did their duties well enough. He had returned to the room after dinner and had gone straight to work. It was only an hour later that he realised his handler had dozed off where she sat. She had said nothing but the templar had been sniffling a little and looked rather pale. Probably a cold or so he suspected, Alexius took off his cloak and placed it over the sleeping figure so she could rest well enough. It could get cold down here in the basement and he was at least closer to the candles that he needed for reading.

The door to the study opened and the former magister glanced up from where he stood. Seeing Dorian, he placed a finger over his lips gesturing to the sleeping templar and beckoned his former student inside, closer to the books and away from Belinda. Seeing Dorian brought back a flood of memories, from their disagreements, and his memories of Felix, but that was the past. The younger man had approached him and tried to rebuild their relationship, reminding him of the man he had been once before. It was difficult but it was a direction and he was slowly walking towards it.

“And what brings you to this dark cellar at this time of the day Lord Pavus? It’s not often I get visitors at this hour,” Alexius spoke as he placed his papers aside, clasping his hands as he studied the other Tevinter’s expression. The man had been crying, that much was obvious from the tear-stained cheeks and the red eyes. Alexius frowned. “Did something happen?” 

He was tempted to hazard a guess as to what, perhaps the man had fought with the Inquisitor, but that would be strange as the man hardly came to him for any emotional support. Dorian was frightfully independent and he respected that much enough… not to mention he had the occasional problem with authority… but here he was either way visiting him during the First Watch, clutching a bunch of notes tightly with trembling hands.

“Alexius… I… I need some help in producing a counterspell for this. Preferably one that wouldn’t result in the safety of anyone being compromised,” Dorian said, his voice shaking uneasily before he took a deep breath. “The Inquisitor was… working on this as he was trying to find a possible way to stop Corypheus in the event that we couldn’t kill him again. Unfortunately, it… it has gone very wrong and now the Inquisitor himself is frozen in time and ice. At least… at least that is what we’ve been able to determine from studying his notes and testing the Fade around him.”

Dorian wiped at a tear that threatened to spill over as he pushed the papers over to Alexius to take a look. The magister tilted his head some, narrowing his eyes at Dorian before glancing at the direction of the door. There were a lot more questions on the tip of his tongue but the notes caught his attention. Taking the pieces of paper into his hands, the magister studied them. They made use of his research. Gereon brought the paper closer to his eyes as he studied them intensely, running his fingers across the equations. 

“Did you work with him on this?” Alexius asked studying his student.

“No, but he had asked about the amulet that was made and the magic behind it. This is entirely his work,” Dorian answered honestly with a sigh. 

“I never thought of using elemental magic to reinforce the time magic. It acts as a centre of focus for the magic to bind onto,” he murmured softly. “This is truly remarkable work…”

“Quite. Although is there a way to reverse its effects safely? I can see how the spell can be countered but from my calculations, it might cause another potential explosion from releasing that much stored potential magic at once. Is there another way to slowly distill it out, or reduce the possibility of that happening? I rather not have another explosion like the Conclave if we can help it. One is bad enough, two in several months is just plain terrible and I doubt the sky could take another scar. I’d like to keep it as pretty as it is for those who come after us,” Dorian said as he looked towards his mentor. At this point, yes he could see the Inquisitor’s work was impressive but could they move on from it already? The man who was influencing all of Thedas was now lying in his own bed, not breathing. “He’s trapped in his own spell and we… I… need him back… Alexius you know what it’s like to lose someone you love. I… I rather not lose Islington if I can help it. He is the man that I love.”

At least his sarcasm was not compromised, Alexius thought as he shook his head though his eyes took on a different expression when Dorian pointed out what it was like to lose someone he loved. The faces of Felix and Livia came into his mind. He knew both of them would want him to help Dorian, Felix especially. Dorian had come clean on the snacks Felix had snuck to him during his stint at the Alexius’ household. It had surprised him that his son and student had formed such a close friendship. 

“Very well, let’s see what we can do,” he said softly. Belinda stirred a little in her sleep, sniffling a little, and the two mages glanced over to her. Alexius moved a candle over. It would keep her warmer, not much but it was something. Dorian took out the rolls Blackwall had brought for him, placing it onto some paper. He knew that it would be a long night. He had appreciated the gesture. They sat down, writing out the equations and notes necessary to craft the counterspell. It felt like old times again, mentor and student, working together on a project. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivienne and Solas heavy chapter. Note, the Inquisitor received an orange cat with a collar for his [birthday.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7626682) The Spirit of Hope was from [The Dawn Will Come](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7750483)

The remaining Inner Circle had worked through the night to remove what ice they could from the Inquisitor’s room. Vivienne had taken charge for the time being, issuing instructions, as well as establishing a rotation to allow them to rest. Few wanted to leave the room and had opted to use the Inquisitor’s couch, or even the floor. There had strangely been no arguments from anyone when she started issuing orders, not even Sera or Solas. Then again it had just been establishing some order and nothing else. It was necessary.

Once things had settled down in the room, Vivienne excused herself to check on the progress outside. Seeing her friend’s condition had unsettled her, and she was willing to find a way to save him. It had not escaped her notice that Islington was wearing the Fomari ring she had gifted him. Her face was a placid mask though as she headed down the stairs. To Cullen credit, a new door had already been put up… well rather the old wood had been cobbled together quickly and replaced. The ice had not torn the door off its hinges so it was just a matter of fixing a surface back on. As she pushed open the door, she saw that a barrier of sorts had been put up in the hall, preventing guests from accessing half of it. Cassandra had stationed some soldiers and just dared any of the nobles to enter. Despite the hour, a crowd had gathered. Vivienne gave a disgusted sigh at the onlookers.

“Disgusting, I know,” Cassandra said as she noticed the court enchanter approach. They were far enough from prying ears. “How is it in there? I saw Dorian come out with some papers and he headed to Josephine’s office. I hope you have good news for me.”

“I’m afraid it’s not as good as you’d like Cassandra. We may have a counterspell but casting it might be dangerous for anyone in the area. Dorian has gone to seek his mentor’s advice and everyone else is just trying to melt the ice. It doesn’t help much but it gives people something to do. I thought Josephine might need some help in flushing away some of the nosier nobles.”

“Varric is helping her on that, although he’s handling the civilians. The agents and runners have been informed and under strict orders not to reveal anything, and they are assured that we have the situation under control. As am I. I may be worried but I trust you, Solas and Dorian to figure something out. The Herald’s fate cannot be in better hands. I will keep these people at bay for now, although it would be best to figure what it is that we want to tell them,” the Seeker said as she glanced at the barrier. Those who knew the Inquisition’s circle well enough knew they were not going to get any information any time soon, so some dispersed back to the quarters. Only the very excited and eager remained. Vivienne placed a hand on Cassandra’s forearm to reassure her, giving a smile before she headed towards the ambassador’s office.

Josephine was staring at a piece of paper while Varric stood at the side, offering ideas.

“We could tell them that the Anchor is giving him problems again. It’s not the first time it has happened,” the dwarf said.

“But it would worry them… I suppose we could say that it caused a slight overload of magic and he would need some time to recover. He is not to be disturbed other than those of the Inner Circle… although I would prefer if we could avoid saying such things completely,” Josephine said with a sigh.

Vivienne made her way across, glancing at the work. “It would be better if we could avoid it all together. It is imperative our Inquisitor be seen as untouchable as he had been all these months.”

The Antivian sighed looking up at the mage. She was exhausted, and worried. Before she had sat down to think of a reason, the woman had arranged numerous meetings that had been scheduled, clearing herself up for the time being to handle the immediate problem. Vivienne pointed out the obvious and Josephine chided herself for not thinking about that fact earlier. “We will tell them that the Herald is conducting an investigation and trying to find methods to stop Corypheus. If they insist on finding out more, I will turn them to Cassandra. Will that be sufficient Lady Vivienne?”

“That would be quite sufficient for them my dear,” the noble said with a smile.

“I’ll tell the same to our workers Ruffles, don’t worry about them. If we’re calm they’ll follow our lead,” Varric said with a smile. A questioning glance was given to Vivienne though, silently asking for updates on the mages’ progress.

“Islington’s still suspended in time, but we’re working on getting the ice whittled down. It’s been good progress. Dorian managed to come up with a counterspell, but he’s trying to be sure of it before he casts it. Undoing such a spell in an enclosed area is never a good thing under any circumstances. Now it’s late my dears and unless there’s other things to settle, I would recommend that you get some rest. Give the people the impression that everything is as normal as it can be,” Vivienne urged before she left, giving the same advice to Cassandra.

She walked back along the stairwell towards the Inquisitor’s room. A fair bit of the ice had been melted by now and she just had to avoid puddles of water. There wasn’t much that could be done for it but to wait for evaporation to occur. Cole and the rest were busy at work with the ice, but Sera and Leliana had stopped to rest.

Vivienne cleared her throat, explaining what had happened and the logic behind it. It was met with murmurs of agreement. Now that the initial excitement had worn off, they were exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. With the understanding that they would come back in the morning to resume their work, they worked out who would remain in the Inquisitor’s room, and who wanted to go back. In the end, Sera and Solas insisted on staying, while the rest agreed they should retire to their rooms. The warriors knew there was little to be done and Cole wanted to help others since he could do nothing for Islington. Vivienne herself wanted to stay, but she had to wear the perfect mask… even if it meant time away from her stricken friend. Solas remaining though, reassured them. He had been the one who watched over him and ensured his survival after the explosion at the Conclave.

She saw them off to their rooms before retiring to her own bed in the alcove of the hall. The onlookers had started to disperse once the rest of the Inner Circle had come out, reassured that all was back to normal. Vivienne pulled the blankets about her and she sighed.

“My poor dear Islington,” she muttered before she closed her eyes and did her best to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Sera had taken her emotions out on the ice and when the rest left, she was exhausted.

Turning to look at Solas, the elven mage had taken the chair at the Inquisitor’s desk, studying the notes once more and he paid no attention to his fellow elf. Which was probably the best for the both of them. Sera moved into the bed next to Islington. It was cold, but she wanted to be physically closer to her friend.

“Hate magic, stupid Islington,” she grumbled before she choked back a sob and rolled him a little onto the side. His body moved without much protest. “You best get better yeah?” she said as she curled up beside him as she closed her eyes to rest.

Solas looked over at the sleeping elf and shook his head. He could never figure her out. The girl was an enigma to him. She hated magic but she and the Inquisitor could be as thick as thieves when it came to pranks. The Inquisitor’s state worried him but there was little to do but wait. He closed his eyes, slipping quietly into dreams in the chair, stepping into the Fade. Over there, he could see the magic more clearly at least.

In the middle of the room, a frozen glowing light indicated the Inquisitor’s presence, but even then, he could not reach him, as Cole could not. The spirit had been right, he could not reach the man. Try as he could, when the elven apostate reached out to grasp at the light, he found something blocking him. The only way he knew his friend was there was because it had been sundered from everything else. His heart ached for Wisdom who would have guided him, but she was no more thanks to the selfish mages. He had ensured that they saw justice, but the emptiness that was there could not help him. Still he did what he could, walking around the area in his dreams as he studied the field.

A soft mew penetrated the silence and Solas glanced down. It was Cat, the Inquisitor’s pet cat. The elf frowned and knelt down to study it. The feline was fond of running about the fortress to the point everyone gave up keeping track of it… but here it was in the Fade. A small smile came to the elf’s lips as he reached over to scratch it behind the ears.

“I see you’re worried for our friend as well. Does he know that you’ve taken residence in his cat?” Solas asked quietly. “And what sort of spirit might you be?”

“Less of his cat and more of the cat’s collar. I do not seek to possess anyone, not even a cat. Not after the Inquisitor freed me from Despair. I am a Spirit of Hope... he reminded me what I was again. I’m merely taking the form of his pet. It is something familiar to everyone here. Compassion said that it would be better for me,” the cat said as it leaned into the scratching.

“I see. I am Solas, and we will need you very much here then with the Inquisitor in this state. I would appreciate it if you could tell me what you knew about this spell he’s cast,” Solas said as he sat down and picked up the cat to cuddle it against his chest. He looked at the still image and sighed. The cat purred and rubbed against the elf’s chest.

“Do not Despair Solas, there will be Hope,” the cat spoke quietly before it started telling its tale of how things had looked like on this side of the Veil.

“I could hear his thoughts, but neither I nor Compassion could reach him. He had wrapped the Fade everywhere around him, bending it in ways to keep us away, to keep everything away. There was not just Despair, but Rage… Fear, they were all there. He tried to keep them away. Even through the Veil, his shouts were loud enough… and then it went silent. A slice of the Fade apart from the rest. Some say the magic has been felt before… at where the cliffs are red,” the feline said as he nuzzled into Solas’ palm.

The elven apostate took the information and pondered. It was nothing new but the good thing was that apparently the creatures of the Fade knew just as much as he did… or was it a bad thing. It was hard to tell. He did wish Wisdom was about to help him. Still, perhaps he could learn a thing or two. Solas placed the cat down onto the ground and started to study the sundered space. By dawn he hopefully should have some answers.


	5. Time Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spell is undone, but all is not right

Dorian headed up the stairs as he walked into Josephine’s office. It was still dark at night although judging from the noise level, Josephine had managed to quell the nosey nobles. The Tevinter mage headed out and saw the sentries. Cassandra was sleeping in the corner of the hall, sitting directly in front of the Inquisitor's door. A soft smile came to his lips. Good old Cassandra, you could always trust her to be the shield when one was needed.

He stood at a decent distance before he called out her name quietly and prodded her gently with his staff. The last time they had been travelling together and he had the honour of waking Cassandra, the woman had near strangled him out of reflex when he woke her up. After that he was a lot more cautious.

Cassandra thankfully didn't wake up in her usual start. The woman was in a light doze. “Dorian I hope you have good news.”

“I do Cassandra, and I'll need Solas,” he said before outlining the plan. “We’ll need to be able to keep magic at a minimum once the counterspell has been cast.”

“I believe our templars might be able to help with that,” Cassandra reminded him. Dorian nodded his head. It had slipped his mind that templars could mute magic. That had been an option originally but the worry was if the muted magic would actually kill Islington instead if that was what was keeping him alive.

“Very well… I suppose we should get Vivienne as well lest she makes a fuss over us doing this without her knowledge.”

While Cassandra went to fetch Vivienne and the templars, Dorian went to gather the lyrium he needed. Solas woke up when he felt Dorian’s presence in the room. Cat was sleeping on his lap. The feline got off and jumped onto the desk as it groomed itself.

“I hope you come bearing good news Dorian,” Solas said as he looked at the notes the man carried.

“I do, but first let us wake Sera so she doesn't get caught in the spell casting. You know how much she abhors this sort of things.”

In the end Sera was shooed outside to take Cassandra’s place watching the door, a job she welcomed for it was still helping her friend but she didn't have to get entangled in that magic mess that was about to happen.

Cassandra had brought along two templars and Vivienne and Dorian began to outline his plan. The Tevinter was exhausted but he wasn't about to get some rest until his amatus was safe, and only he and Alexius knew how. Solas studied their research carefully and nodded.

Solas mentally ran through the procedure in his head, working through the process. They left him alone while Dorian outlined the details and soon enough, he was ready. The apostate mage closed his eyes and gathered the magic around him, Dorian and Vivienne provided some of it. He drew it towards himself as he channeled the energy towards the time-frozen spell. His brief stint in the Fade and shown him the weaker points, where he could divert the magic to undo it. Bit by bit he forged a link between the present and the time that was suspended. He could feel the magic unraveling… And then a surge, coming from his new friend renewing him with Hope.

To those watching, Solas was doing a minor dance of sorts. The Fade rippled where he channeled it and it was beautiful to watch. Once the spells were in place, he pushed his spell and wrapped it around Islington’s.

“Get ready,” he warned the templars. The mage drove all the magic into the spell, crushing and undoing its structure, allowing it to fall apart. The resulting swell of energy was felt almost immediately as time connected with each other. And then it was gone. Reality asserted itself as Cassandra and the templars did their work. The magic dissipated as quickly as it came. Solas wiped the beads of sweat that had come from the exertion and they glanced at the bed. Had the spell worked?

There was no movement from the Inquisitor’s chest for a while… Then slowly, it rose as he breathed.

“He's alive,” Cassandra said, relief evident in her tone.

Dorian walked over to his amatus to see him closely. The man’s eyes were still close and then he moved slightly.

“No… No…” He muttered. Any relief that Dorian felt on hearing the man’s voice vanished when he heard the mutterings. Now that one problem had been solved… The original problem had returned. He reached over to stroke the man’s forehead.

“Amatus?” He whispered softly. The Inquisitor’s eyes flew open and he glanced around wildly as he sat up and looked about the room.

“Get out!” He screamed at them. “Out!”

Everyone drew back in shock at the sudden outburst. Vivienne was the first to recover.

“Islington my dear, you just-”

“Shut up! Get out! Now!” Islington interrupted as he got up from his bed to walk towards them. “I need to be alone right now. I need to be on my own. You're disturbing my rest. How did you all get in here without me knowing? Is the hold under siege? Where are the Venatori? Maker are those Red Templars?”

“Islington… Calm down for goodness sake!” Dorian said raising his hands to place it on the man’s shoulder.

“No you shouldn't be here… You…”

The Inquisitor’s eyes rolled backwards as Solas hit him with a sleep spell. It was a light enough one, the templars’ effects had gone and Solas managed to squeeze enough mana for it. Dorian caught the man in his arms and looked towards the rest, distress evident on his expression.

Cassandra stared at the Herald and frowned, folding her arms. She recognised some of the signs that the Inquisitor showed… Some of it. “Place the Herald under guard. He's not to be without a templar. Make sure he doesn't use any magic for the time being,” she instructed, worry creasing her fine features.

“I'll stay here tonight Cassandra,” Dorian spoke as he moved the Inquisitor to the bed. He was exhausted but he wasn't sure if he could sleep. One problem had been replaced with another and this one… This was one he couldn't solve on his own and with paper. How foolish of him to think that everything would be all right once he had finished the counterspell.

“I will stay as well,” Solas said quietly.

“If you two are staying, I shall see you in the morning. We can then discuss with the others what we can do about the Inquisitor,” Vivienne said as she headed down the stairs. The events of the night had shaken her more than she realised, and as an accomplished player of the game, she knew when it was time to take a step back to preserve her dignity. Lady Vivienne headed back to her bed, going into uneasy sleep.

Dorian tucked the Inquisitor in and settled down on the side of the bed next to him. Solas fetched the chair from the desk and rested next to the man as well, on the other side. If anything happened, both of them were within range to tend to him. One of the templars stood close on guard, watching them silently. Cat got up and nuzzled against its owner before settling down on Islington’s belly, curling up there and purring quietly. Solas soon slipped into a meditative sleep while Dorian, was just plain exhausted and fell into a dreamless sleep soon enough. Come morning, there was going to be a lot of work to be done. Islington, thankfully, remained asleep, perhaps by choice or by the spell, who knew, but slept quietly he did.


	6. In times of trouble

Dawn came and as soon as the roosters crowed, Skyhold came alive as the civilians woke to begin their duties. Soldiers went into their drills. The kitchens were already hard at work making food to serve the entire Inquisition. It seemed like just another normal day as people fell back into routines. The only indication that something had happened during the night was the Inquisitor’s new door, and the barrier that stood in half of the main hall. Cullen and Cassandra had closed off the areas from Josephine’s office and the Inquisitor’s room, but the rest of Skyhold was business as usual. Vivienne’s advice had done them some good. With the Inner Circle remaining calm, most of the population assumed whatever it was had been handled and it was a minor incident.

Solas was already up when the Inquisitor awoke. The templar had been relieved and another stood at his place, watching the Inquisitor like the silent sentinel he was, ready to reinforce reality should the Inquisitor try anything again. His instructions had been very clear. Islington glanced to his side, where he saw Dorian, the man’s expression creased with worry even in his rest. He reached out gently to stroke the man’s fringe, taking care not to disturb him. Cat had settled into Solas’ lap once more and the elf was absentmindedly patting it as he gazed out the balcony. Hearing movements from the sheets, Solas glanced at his friend. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, a shadow behind the lovely eyes of Mythal that his friend possessed.  _ I am sorry my friend _ , Solas thought.

The Circle mage had an air of defeat about him. Cat got up and bounded over to its owner, rubbing against the Inquisitor’s hand. Islington reached over and pulled the feline into a cuddle, his breathing steadier as he held it as he closed his eyes and focused. When he opened them, it seemed a part of the Inquisitor everyone knew was back. 

“How are you feeling?” Solas finally asked once he was certain the Inquisitor wasn’t going to lash out. He was not going to try to reason with a man who was emotionally riled. There was enough of them out there and Solas knew through experience that it would be a waste of time to try.

Islington glanced at Solas, as if trying to figure out and recognise who this elven man was. He opened his mouth to speak then shook his head, looking away. The elf raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“I see,” he said softly.  _ I am very sorry Islington _ , he thought silently. “I will see about breakfast for all of us.” 

Solas headed down towards the main hall, Cassandra had spent the night there, guarding although she had made herself somewhat comfortable against a wall. 

“How is he?” came the expected question.

Solas just shook his head and replied, “Perhaps it would be wise to call a gathering in the war room… there is much that we have to discuss. I do not think that the Inquisitor is able to put on an appearance that soon… but he is calm for the time being. Did you rest well Cassandra?”

“Not as much as I would like, but at least… things are a little better than yesterday,” the woman said as she got up and stretched a little. “I will gather the rest.”

Understanding he was dismissed, Solas went to the kitchens to gather food and made his way back up. Dorian was awake by the time he returned, and Solas handed some tea and pastries to the templar before tending to his friends. The Inquisitor was holding onto his cat tightly, while Dorian sat at the other end of the bed, looking dejected, although his mood changed when Solas approached. 

“Good morning Solas, I trust you’ve brought a fine meal for us?” he said mockingly cheery. 

Solas groaned internally. Why did Dorian always have to put up such a front but he let the man have it, this was hardly the right time to pick fights with each other.

“As fine as it can be Dorian,” he said as he passed all the tea to the two men on the bed, and helped himself to a pastry. He was not going to touch the tea, although it was tempting to try and clear his head with it after the night’s events. The cat lurked about on the bed, but stuck close to the Inquisitor, tucking its paws under it so that it looked like a loaf. Islington helped himself to the tea but barely touched the pastry. His fellow mages glanced occasionally, but they ate in silence for most part, uncertain of what to say to each other… well rather uncertain of what they could say. Neither wanted to set the Inquisitor off and they respected his silence enough. Dorian finally broke the silence by asking Solas about using the counterspell, bringing Islington up to date on what had transpired without telling him directly. The two of them discussed the magic while the Inquisitor ate and listened. 

It was about half an hour later that a runner came up to inform them that the Inner Circle had gathered in the war room and they would be waiting. They made their way down. Solas and Dorian noted the shift in posture in the Circle mage, the same confidence he always had and carried himself with. There had been rumours among the nosier nobles that something had happened to the Inquisitor, but seeing him alive and well put any rumours to rest. But once the door to Josephine’s office closed, Islington came to a halt at the office, the facade cracking visibly when he saw the rest of his friends through the corridor. 

“I can’t… I can’t go into the room,” he said, his voice trembling as he fought the tears that threatened to spill. He couldn’t bare to face his friends, or see that many people. Fear gripped his heart and he made to turn about to go back to the room, and stopped only because Dorian held him back… but he guided him to the chair next to the fire place. Solas went ahead to inform the rest of the Inquisition.

The Inquisitor buried his face in his hands and rested silently, not moving. Mother Giselle came out from the room, and gently touched Dorian on the shoulder. 

“You should go in, I’ll take care of him,” she said kindly. Cassandra had called her in to seek her insight. Practically all of them were fighters, but handling the Inquisitor at that moment needed a gentler healing touch… one that magic could not bring. Dorian nodded his head and headed into the war room, closing the door, but leaving it slightly ajar in the event they needed to rush out. 

Mother Giselle sat in silence next to the troubled man. Islington had stopped to look at his mark. He had removed his gloves, and was tracing the cracks on his skin with his right hand, following the line over and over again. 

“I know you may not want to talk, but I hope you do not mind my presence here Inquisitor. Rest if you must,” the revered mother said kindly. She was only answered by a brief nod of the man’s head. The only sound that filled the room were the crackling of the fireplace and the sounds of the birds that lived about Skyhold.

Inside the War Room, the atmosphere was tense. They had caught a glimpse of the Inquisitor and it worried everyone. Dorian brought everyone up to speed, explaining the events of the night before and the Inquisitor’s current state. Most had recognised the signs the Inquisitor showed by now. It wasn’t unusual, seen often in the refugees that came to the hold, those who had seen too much death. Few of the soldiers who had been relieved of duty had it. Since the Inquisitor didn’t want to talk, eyes turned to Cole, hoping the spirit could give them insight into their leader’s head.

“Their deaths stick to him, he sees them, eyes… the light leaving them as he lands the killing blow. Their screams as they burn under his fire, panicking, running. He feels it on his own skin. I can’t get the blood off… their eyes staring at him when he tries to sleep. Feel the ice creeping around him, Corypheus’ hand around his neck, squeezing, suffocating, strangling. What if I fail?” Cole spoke as he listened, conveying the Inquisitor’s thoughts.

“Cole, thank you, I think we heard enough,” Cassandra said kindly before turning to the rest of the Inner Circle. 

“I get that he’s stressed over leading the Inquisition yeah? But I’m not sure I get why he’s holding on to those people he killed. It’s not like they didn’t do bad things or attack him first,” Sera said quietly as she tried to piece the information together. It perplexed her on why that might be a bad thing. She recalled the same expression on the Inquisitor when he had recruited her. She wasn’t the only one perplexed by it, a few others were turning the idea over in their heads from their expression.

“I think he might actually believe they don’t deserve to die. Despite the decisions he makes, everyone has been spared, save Erimond. Even then, he was sulking for days and turning the decision over in his head. He’s never complained about it. Personally… I know I didn’t seem like it then, but I’m thankful now that he’s given me a chance to repent after I turned myself in at Val Royeaux,” Blackwall said as he rubbed his chin. “I follow him because he sees the good in people, no matter what they’ve done. A trait for a good leader, but perhaps now, it is his undoing.”

Some had trouble trusting the Warden after his true identity had been revealed, but Blackwall had been slowly rebuilding that trust by doing good work as he had always done. Nods of agreement went about the table. 

“I can’t help but wish we had some sort of equivalent of a re-educator here. It would be easier to turn him over to them, to have them talk him back into shape,” Bull said. He recalled the same feelings and that had resulted in him being sent to Orlais and meeting his Chargers. They couldn’t send the Inquisitor elsewhere though.

“Yes, and turn him into a mindless slave like they do to all,” Solas quipped bitterly. 

“I don’t mean it that way Solas… but it works to a degree in getting you out of that rut. I wouldn’t want to put Islington through that, but I’m out of ideas on my end,” Bull admitted and sighed. Their relationship was still rocky, although he appreciated the mental chess games Solas played with him. 

Varric cleared his throat and eyes turned towards him. “Now, I’m no expert on how to treat a person like Snowflake, but it might be good for him to get some closure on the deaths he’s had. He’s never really had the time to attend to anyone’s funeral properly. Just the usual hi, then bye and he’s taken away to somewhere else to settle problems. Give him time to mourn. I’ll help him work through this. Spoken to enough people to know how to handle it. I’d ask Mother Giselle but Snowflake’s not really the faithful type, but she might be able to help. Probably will need your help Kid, you too Sparkler.”

“I suppose the rest of us can handle things around Thedas for a while. The Inquisitor won’t be needed unless Rifts are spotted, and he has closed quite a few of them,” Cassandra spoke, looking towards Leliana for confirmation.

“I’ve had no reports of new Rifts in the past few weeks, my scouts have been monitoring areas and none have reopened in his absence,” the spymaster said.

They settled down into teams, working out who they wanted to travel with to continue stabilising the different regions and selecting certain areas. They each had their preferences and having work made them feel useful to their wounded leader. Varric and Dorian spoke at length as the dwarf tried to suss out more information.

Their conversation came to a halt when they heard the door open and Islington entered it quietly, if reluctantly. His dull eyes met with their faces and they saw the brief look of panic cross his face as he debated running out. 

“I’m sorry for worrying everyone… I… I might need time alone for a while,” he managed to say. It took a while though, and it was clear even that simple sentence was taking a lot of emotional effort on his part. 

“Islington, do not fret over us. Take care of yourself. We’ll handle things for the time being. You need to rest. We know you’re overworked as it is. You can just focus on getting better,” Cassandra said with a reassuring smile. There were agreements about the room, and Islington slumped against the door, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you.”

He lingered in the room for a bit, and the others made it a point not to turn to him for decisions. After a while, the Inquisitor sat contented on a couch in the corner of the room, listening to the chatter and feeling the burden of command temporarily lifted from his shoulders. There he remained, staring into space for a long while as discussions went about. The occasional concerned look was thrown his direction but he seemed oblivious to it all.


	7. Fractured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric shares his findings and the Inquisition finds a working solution.

Mother Giselle had been keeping watch on the Inquisitor. The man occasionally came by the gardens, but he was always accompanied by a templar, occasionally Cassandra, when he tended to his herbs. He avoided interaction with most of those about the gardens, though he did politely speak when spoken to. On the surface, all seemed well. In those few minutes of interaction, few could tell that something was off about the Inquisitor. Those who could, just thought he was in a bad mood and left him alone.

She worked together with Varric and bit by bit, the Inquisitor opened up to them, confiding his fears and worries. Most of them, they had suspected, but if it was one thing that they confirmed, the man’s conscience was guilt-ridden by the amount of death on his hands. Varric had urged him to write letters to those people, or their next of kin. Mother Giselle provided the words when he got stuck. It was painful seeing the Inquisitor in this state, but it was part of the healing process. One that would take a lot more time than they could afford.

It was about a week after the incident that Cassandra exploded at the next meeting. “I cannot stand how he is behaving like a helpless whelp! There is so much work to be done and decisions to be made and he’s just… argh! And of all the times to do it, he chooses now to have a break down. We have our own duties to attend to as well!”

The woman paced about impatiently. She was not the only one getting frustrated. Several of the members had also tried to urge the Inquisitor to join them in on some activities, or make the call on some things, but he had continued to decline, stating he needed to heal. 

“Perhaps he just needs a little bit more nudging, that’s all Cassandra,” Vivienne added. She too was nearing the end of her patience. The woman had not gotten her moniker without reason. She was a lot less sentimental than the Inquisitor. While it was not said, some of them agreed with their views. Solas for one, was trying to be understanding but the frustration was adding up.

“Look I know it’s frustrating and I’m sure Snowflake knows it, but he needs a bit longer to get back onto his feet. Mother Giselle and I have been working with him and it’s gotten some results. He’s getting there, slowly but surely. You can’t rush these kind of things Seeker. You can’t just expect a scholar to turn into the Inquisitor without any repercussions,” Varric piped up from where he sat.

Cassandra was about to retort when Leliana spoke first. “Varric, I would appreciate if you could tell us what you found out. Is there any way we can help the Inquisitor?”

The dwarf sighed and took out his notes. “Firstly… for someone that talented in magic, apparently he’s never killed anyone prior to the Inquisition. Heck, he still prefers to do things peacefully if it doesn’t take too much time and works… or just run in the other direction. But he’s here because he has to be and no one else can close the rifts.”

Varric lowered the papers to look at everyone. “You’re probably not going to like what I found out next. He hates being the guy people depends on.... And well, he said if he had a choice, he rather be dead at the Conclave rather than have the mark. And it’s not just that. Snowflake pointed out that practically all of us are here by choice. We can pass our duties to someone else but not him. I think that’s been bothering him, the whole pressure of being a leader and all. He has a good heart but he’s breaking. You can’t rush him Cassandra, he needs time to rebuild himself.”

There was silence about the room for a bit as they slowly digested the storyteller’s words.

“And he’s already done it better than most of us. We’re already getting frustrated after what, a week of handling his duties? This guy went from hiding in the laboratories of the Circle to killing mercenaries and demons, to handling nobles and making decisions that would shake our world, and he’s been holding out for months. He wants to be all right for us, to fix things again. His heart is in the right place and he still knows what he has to do… but I think we can continue to be a lot kinder to him in the meantime. He’s been holding the metaphorical torch for ages now and as much as I see him as a figure of legends, he still has the body and mind of a mortal man.

And the thing is, he hates what’s happening as much as we do. Islington may be a Trevelyan but well… he called us his family. It wasn’t deliberate either, a slip of his tongue on his part. We’re closer to him than any of his own family members. He said this, “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” Give him time. He’ll get around to it, but it’s time he needs,” Varric concluded, making a passionate bid to the rest of the Inquisition. 

“I… I suppose we could,” Cassandra said with a sigh. “Does anyone disagree?” she asked around the table. When no answer or hands were raised, talk moved over to business regarding the Inquisition.

As the days wore on, the Inquisitor started coming out of his shell; but it was more than a month before he could bring himself to be back on the field. He made it a point to keep his distance if he could help it. Bull taught him how to see their enemies as not people, and it helped the Inquisitor. For most part, things were on their way back to normal.

At least they knew he was able to hold it together until they faced Corypheus. Despite his thoughts and breakdowns, one thing remained clear, the Inquisitor was still intent on stopping Corypheus no matter what, and now he had started to focus on it. There was danger in having such a mindset, but the Inquisitor’s friends did their best to keep him grounded as possible.

It wasn’t the best solution, but it was one that worked for now, and they stuck to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the tale. I tried to keep it as Inquisitor-Lite as possible, focusing on their interactions. Recovery is usually a long process, frustrating both the person and those around them... and more often than not, you don't really get through it, but you learn to get by. I hope I've managed to convey that in my tale.  
> At the end, the Inquisitor isn't all right, he's still broken, shattered, but they've learned to adapt around him and work with it. For better or for worse.


End file.
